Wanting Wilder (Safe Word: Oasis)

by Zurlo, Michele

  He lifted a strand of her hair and fanned it between his fingers. Being part of her weave, it wasn’t technically her hair. But it looked good, and she didn’t have to straighten it, and that was all she cared about.

  “While pleasure is mostly about sex, and pain often plays a role in that, control of the body isn’t restricted to sex. It’s so much more than that. When you give control to me, I’m taking on the responsibility for your physical and emotional well-being.”

  She hadn’t asked for that. “Why would you want to take on responsibility for the physical and emotional well-being of someone you just met?”

  He twisted his hand in the hair at the base of her skull and held her immobile. “It doesn’t feel like we just met. I can’t explain why I feel connected to you any more than you can. We can just acknowledge the facts and proceed accordingly.”

  It was refreshing to know he felt it too, that she wasn’t the only one in the room falling hard. She nodded the best she could with his hand twisted in her hair. “But even when people have been together for years, they don’t want to have that much responsibility for the other person.”

  “That’s tragic.” He brushed soft kisses over her cheeks and eyelids. “I can’t imagine spending my life with someone and not wanting to see to their health and happiness.”

  His romanticism stole her breath, even as she realized his vision of a D/s relationship was very one-sided. “What about you? Who makes sure you’re happy and healthy?”

  “You do.” He kissed her then, plunging his tongue into her mouth and claiming possession. He used the hand not tangled in her hair to caress her ass.

  When he broke the kiss and pulled away, she mewled in protest.

  “You take responsibility by doing what I say, when I say, and how I say. The particulars of all that are negotiated. I don’t make the mistake of thinking it’s all about me, but I also don’t harbor the illusion that I’ll be happy with anything less than a submissive who lives to please me.”

  She felt connected to him, but she couldn’t say she lived to please him. Did she want to please him? Yes. But not at the expense of her happiness. “Wilder, I’m not a doormat. I don’t live to please anyone but myself.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not looking for a doormat. I’m looking for a woman who can appreciate that I need to be in charge, who is a bit of a masochist, who likes to be tied up, who is intelligent, beautiful, willing to try new things. And who understands what it means to submit.” He sobered completely at that last part.

  What he said appealed to her. She didn’t quite understand why, but she knew she didn’t have to figure it out right then and there. She sat up, pushing her hands against his chest to put a little distance between them. “What if I never understand it the way you need me to?”

  Without moving closer, he sat up a little straighter. “You already do. That’s what drew me to you. That’s why I’m taking the time to talk through this with you instead of letting you get dressed so I can take you back to your hotel room.”

  She thought about all he’d said and all the desires he’d uncovered. The short amount of time meant it was a little overwhelming. Still, she didn’t want to walk away from him or from what was happening between them. “I want to learn to please you.”

  He regarded her somberly, and she knew the moment of truth had come. “It would please me if you would explain why what you did deserves punishment.”

  Pieces of logic, connections to past and present, came to her. “Leaving the room without your permission was disrespectful.” She swallowed. “More than that, I threw my refusal to ask in your face. If you were a stranger and we were just casually chatting, I would have excused myself before leaving. You’re so much more than a stranger, and you deserve even more consideration. I’m sorry, Sir.”

  And she was. She recognized that she wasn’t asking to use the bathroom. She was asking to be excused from their interaction. It was Manners 101, and she’d failed.

  “I accept your apology, my sweet. Now I want you to accept your punishment. Spanking. Five strokes.”

  Lydia started at his pronouncement. After all he’d done to her, he expected five smacks of his hand against her ass to be suitable for chastisement? “Five, Sir?”

  He nodded. “Get on your knees and ask for it.”

  She looked at the bed, and then she shifted her gaze to the floor. Which would he expect? Since this was a punishment, he probably wanted to see her as low as she could get. She slid from his lap and knelt on the floor. It felt different from before. When they’d entered the room and she’d presented herself to him, she hadn’t felt the shame she felt now. She’d felt sexy and proud; excitement and anticipation had tingled through her nerves.

  “Sir, I’m sorry I disobeyed, and I’m sorry I left without your permission. I accept your punishment.” As she said the words, a weight lifted from her shoulders. She’d apologized already, and he’d accepted, but this was different. The position, the marking of this moment brought her absolution. For the first time, she knew she wouldn’t spend hours replaying her mistake through her head and berating herself. She would be able to put this incident behind her and move forward with a clean soul.

  “Come back up here, Lydia. Lie across my lap with that gorgeous ass where I can reach it.” He shifted to the center of the bed. She scrambled up and put herself where he indicated. He caressed the cooled skin of her ass, raising gooseflesh. Her pussy grew moist, and her clit throbbed with need.

  “Stretch your arms up, and grip the edge of the bed. This is going to hurt. Bury your face in the covers to stifle the sounds of your screams.”

  He said it so matter-of-factly that his directive had a chilling effect on her. Any romanticism or eroticism disappeared. She could see where she might enjoy a good, thorough spanking from him, but not like this. Not under these circumstances.

  And then she understood the difference between punishment and pleasure. It was all in the intention. “Yes, Sir.”

  He didn’t rush the spanking, and he didn’t make her count. The first blow took her breath. It was no harder than he’d struck her before, but it was definitely a disparate event. When he finished, he turned her around, cradled her in his arms, and wiped away a stray tear. “You took that very well. I’m proud of you.”

  She wasn’t, not by a long shot. “You’re not angry?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll never discipline you in anger. Anger drives people to make poor decisions. Plus, I expect you to make mistakes. As long as you take responsibility and learn from them, I won’t stay angry with you.”

  “What about when you make mistakes?” How in the world did one go about punishing a Dom?

  “I’ll take responsibility and apologize.”

  Now that her punishment was over, she truly felt like she could move on. She grinned at him impishly. “And I get to spank you?”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “Would you want to?”

  She thought about that, considering it quite seriously. She could not imagine taking her hand or a paddle or anything else to his ass. “No. I think I’d rather have you figure out how to make it up to me.”

  From the look on his face, she realized how perfectly compatible they were. He looked like he’d rather die than fail to rectify a mistake. So would she.

  Reaching up, she smoothed her fingertip over his eyebrows and down the line of his nose. Unable to stop, she traced the rest of his face. “Sir? I’d like to ask for something.”

  He released her from his embrace.

  She knelt on the mattress next to him, staring at a point just in front of her knees.

  “What is your question, slave?”

  His low tone washed over her. For the third time that night, she found pleasure in kneeling for him. “I’d like to continue the scene, Sir. You said you weren’t finished with me.”

  He chuckled. “I’m definitely not finished with you. Stand up.”

  She rose to her feet to find him standing next to her. He placed his
hands on either side of her face and held her immobile for his kiss. Plunging his tongue into her mouth, he demanded her acquiescence and her obedience. She happily gave both.

  Breaking the kiss with a loud smack, he stepped back. “Kneel at the center of the bed. I’m going to bind your arms and gag you, and then I’m going to use your body any way I want.”

  It shouldn’t have made her pussy weep to know he planned to use her, but it did, and Lydia embraced her new role wholeheartedly. She was made for this.

  He wrapped medium-gauge rope around her wrists, simulating handcuffs, and secured the lines to the X of naked wood hovering over the bed. She’d assumed it was there merely to give the makeshift bedposts some structural support, but it turned out to have an additional application. He tethered her so that she had a small range of motion. She could rise up on her knees and turn her body in a circle, but that was all.

  Wilder approached her from behind. He slid his body underneath hers so that her thighs fell to the outside of his. The blunt tip of his cock nudged her inner thigh. Her butt nestled against his hard stomach, and his chest provided support for her back and eased the strain on her shoulders. She hadn’t realized she was relying so much on the restraints to hold her up.

  Almost reverently, he secured the gag into place. “I’d rather hear your passion, but that isn’t going to be possible this time.” His statement was ripe with the promise of a next time. Of a hundred next times.

  The places where he’d whipped her no longer bore evidence in the form of redness, but her skin remained ultrasensitive. With his hands on her hips, he lifted her fully to her knees. Between her legs, she watched him roll on a condom. When he urged her back down, he positioned his cock at her entrance. He split her open—his cock seemed wider in this position—and filled her core in slow, aching inches.

  Once she was fully seated, he pulled her knees wider so that she was no longer able to rely on them for support. She rested her full weight on his lap, and his cock slid even deeper. Never in her life had she felt so possessed, so thoroughly a sexual being, as she did with Wilder. He made it safe—and a requirement—to give of herself completely. With previous lovers, she’d always held back a little, not wanting to give anything important that she feared wouldn’t be cherished. Here and now, that option had been taken away.

  He ran his hands over her skin, caressing his way up from her knees, over her hips, and up her arms, all the way to her hands above the ropes. Feeling the pressure of his caress over the ropes held an erotic appeal Lydia hadn’t expected. He treated the rope an as extension of her body, not as a separate device.

  “You are exceptionally beautiful, Lydia.” His honeyed voice sounded warm and tight with passion. “So soft and giving.”

  He cupped her breasts. Swollen with need and begging for his touch, they felt heavy, and they filled his hands. He massaged them, squeezing and pulling her down as he tilted his hips up. Then he relaxed his hold as he withdrew his cock almost fully. The swelled head pressed into her sweet spot, and he slowly filled her again.

  This deliberate torture felt so sinfully good. It triggered every nerve ending from her core to her arms. The only thoughts she could hold in her head were pleas for more. He held her in a state of perpetual bliss. She wanted him to go faster, and she wanted him to never stop.

  Then he released her breasts. His powerful thighs flexed under her as he spread her wider. Behind her gag, she moaned. He pinched her nipple and her clit at the same time. The harsh sting took her by surprise, ripping her from the calm place of pleasure he’d lulled her into. She tried to wiggle away from the exquisite pain, but he slapped her breast and gripped her sensitive nub even harder.

  The unexpected violence drove her over the edge, and she came in a rush of molten heat. Ignoring her climax, Wilder tilted her hips back and fucked her harder. His wide hands and strong fingers were everywhere, caressing her skin with demanding strokes, pinching her tender places, and crushing her body to his.

  In her ear, she heard the steady stream of his praise. She was beautiful, lush, and soft. Her cunt welcomed him, held him, and milked him. He loved her curves, her breasts, and the silky feel of her skin. She pulsed around him in time to his thrusts, which drove the intensity higher and made her orgasm spiral out of control.

  She came again. This time he grunted and slowed his pace. Her nerve endings protested everywhere he touched, begging a reprieve he wasn’t inclined to give. Even his slow fucking didn’t last long. Soon he was back to pistoning his hips. She’d become so slick that she didn’t know if sweat or her juices sealed her body to his. He put his hand between her legs at the point where they came together, holding her swollen tissues captive and guiding his cock back into her pussy with each lengthening thrust.

  The sensations were too much. She felt consumed and treasured, more feminine and alive than ever. Another climax ripped through her, and she screamed as a force she couldn’t hope to handle crashed over her body, consuming her whole.

  She was aware of Wilder’s cries as he came, of the tender way he murmured words of praise and affection as he loosened the ropes around her wrists, and of the heat of his body as he held her close to him. Her heartbeat synchronized with his, and she reveled in his embrace until she fell asleep.

  * * * *

  Present day

  Lydia breathed through the feelings coursing through her system. Bondage turned her on. So what? Sex wasn’t part of the deal. Wilder didn’t seem affected by her all that much. Sure, he’d been hard when he’d punished her earlier, but anything could have caused that. Right?

  One thing was certain: she couldn’t afford to fall for him again. She’d mistaken his skill as a Dom for something more once before, and the aftereffects had kept her from trusting another man for far too long. It was time to move forward and think about life after Wilder.

  Later, after Wilder had released her, she fired up her laptop to see if Master V was around. He was.

  CHAINSFREE: Master V, please explain to me why it’s so hard to move on from my first Dom. He’s back in my life, and I find myself having similar feelings for him.

  MASTRV: So your new guy isn’t new after all?

  CHAINSFREE: Yes and no. He’s the same person I met eight years ago on spring break, but he’s different. Harder, more reserved. I can see him abandoning me just like he did before.

  The screen remained blank for a little while, the idle cursor blinking with maddening regularity. So what if this was the same man? They were both older and wiser. She’d said he was harder and more reserved, but she had changed in the same ways. So why did she yearn for more from Wilder? Hadn’t she learned her lesson well enough the first time?

  MASTRV: The person who introduces us to something we love almost always secures a prominent place in our psyche. I remember my first sub fondly. Our relationship didn’t work out, but when I see her today, I still fall under her spell. I have to remind myself why things didn’t work out between us. Those factors haven’t changed. Do you have unresolved feelings?

  CHAINSFREE: I must. I think it would be easier if more things about him had changed. But he’s the same person—intense, handsome, intelligent. He has a great personality, and he’s a gifted rigger. Except for this distance between us, there’s nothing I don’t like about him.

  MASTRV: Does he feel the same way about you?

  Did he? Did it matter? She was too afraid of rejection and abandonment to seriously consider acting on her feelings. After all, she had to work with him for the next however many years. In that time, he would likely meet somebody special and cherish her with all the reverence Lydia wished he would shower on her. On the screen, Wilder sounded perfect. There was no reason to keep her feelings secret. But in her heart, she couldn’t get past the fact he’d stood her up all those years ago. She’d been so sure of him then, and she’d been wrong. Now she wasn’t sure, and she was reluctant to take another chance.

  CHAINSFREE: He offered friendship. That was the original deal.
He’s willing to tie me up and flog me, but nothing else. This morning, I thought for a second he might be turned on by our session, but I’m not sure.

  MASTRV: In any relationship—friendship or romantic—communication and negotiation are important. It sounds like you need to sit down and have a heart-to-heart with him.

  That was not going to happen. Lydia didn’t have a yen to humiliate herself. She shook her head vigorously.

  CHAINSFREE: No way. I can’t put myself out there like that again. It still hurts to think about what he did to me.

  MASTRV: You never told me exactly what happened to cause that relationship to end. You said he abandoned you. From the way you describe him, I can’t see that happening. Are you sure you have the whole story?

  Lydia blinked at Master V’s message. She hadn’t described Wilder in detail. Calling him handsome and intelligent and intense were general terms anybody who liked another person would use, regardless of their accuracy. They were opinions intended to communicate what she liked about him. So how had Master V arrived at that conclusion?

  Last night he’d said he was familiar with Oasis, and then he’d abruptly signed off. It wasn’t the first time either of them had ended a conversation quickly—life happened, and sometimes conversations needed to end to attend to other things. But this seemed too coincidental. For the first time, she felt distrustful of Master V.

  But she didn’t have the courage to come out and ask him how familiar he was with Oasis.

  CHAINSFREE: I’m sure. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m probably just reacting to some good bondage. It’ll fade once we’re finished with this.

  MASTRV: Finished? Does it have to end?

  CHAINSFREE: This was only ever supposed to be temporary, probably until the weekend. Oh well. I’m tired, so I’m heading to bed.

  It was probably apparent that she was fleeing the conversation, but she didn’t care. The next time she talked to him, she knew she would have to come right out and ask him questions she wasn’t sure she wanted answered. She thanked Master V for his time and advice, but thoughts of Wilder preyed on her mind, robbing her of sleep.